The Dallas daily herald. [volume] (Dallas, Tex.) 1873-1887, 1887-03-17
MISS MARCIAS VALENTINE.
BY MARY cuRItIER PARSONS.


For the Yank &c Blade.
1t was such u cosy kitchen. The
yellow painted floor and wood work
reminded one of continual sunshine.
The tall, old-iashioned dresser, with
its rows OF blue and white deli, stood
in one corner OF the roomy apart
ment; directly opposite an old style
dining-table with bright red cover,
two or three well worn books and n
vase O. dried flowers and grasses.
A braided rug before this table, up
on which, purring placidly, sat
an enormous yellow and
white cat, lending I'm additional
air OF comfort. Between the two
windows which lighted and flooded
the room with sunshine, stood n
small table covered with u coarse,
white cloth, and laid with one plate,
one cup and saucer.
A savory smell from u bubbling ket-
Tie betokened that dinner was in pro.
cess OF preparation, while busting
from stove to table, now peering anX-
iously into the kettle and tasting the
contents with fork, then replacing
the cover, Miss Marcia paused at last
upon the braided rug, and said, appar-
emily, TO the cat:
81 declare it seems so lonely to sit
down by myself day after day to the
table. wish some one would come
in to-day to take dinner with me. |
might get some girl to stay with me.
1 suppose plenty of them in town
would be glad of the chance; but
young girls are bother, always mess
ing round and breaking dishes. No, l
guess I'm better off without one.
But do get dreadful lonesome, and
that's TACT"
For thirty-livey years Marcia Hillman
had lived in this gray old farmhouse,
which was once filled TO oyerllowing
with q merry. noisy brood OF younger
brothers and sisters, now since the
marriage OF the sons and daughter OF
the household and the death OF her
parents sometimes seemed lonely to
the eldest daughter.
To be sure, the neighbors were lie
long friends, and Jonas, her brother,
lived only two miles distant, still it
was daily home companionship Tor
which Miss Hillman longed.
No one i'm the village dreamed that
she was not the most contented spin
ster in buxton. Happy as Marcia
uillman," was an oft repeated saying.
She derived comfortable living
from the small farm bequeathed to her
by her father and was considered well
to do by her acquaintance and neigh
bors.
A loud stamping OF snow-burdened
feet and knock at the door caused
Miss Marcia to pause in her occupa-
ton OF dinner getting.
al guess il must be Jonas. He said
he'd bring me some sweet apples this
week" and opening the door she be-
held, not Jonas but Deacon Apple
ward, a neighbor, who lived about a
mile distant.
"why, how do you do, deacon' It's
a bitter cold day. Sit right up by the
fire. Been to town, | see."
The deacon, a timid appearing man
about forty years OF age, took the
offered chair and after re-
moving his heavy mittens and un'
winding a long red comforter from his
neck, took from his pocket a letter
and a paper and handed them to Miss
Marcia, with the remark:
I'll was down to the Office and Jonas
asked me to bring these to you. lie
said that nobody had been after your
mail this week"
"The letters from Sarah, ! guess
and I'm glad you brought that and
the paper. didn't get the Messenger
last week and tell you ! missed read
ing il. When q body Is all soul alone
paper is a sight OF company"
Eyes, that's fact. You 'tlool
very lonesome here, though. This Il
one OF the sunniest, pleasantest htch
ems in buxton"
Eyes, it's pleasant enough, but tn.
weather has been so cold lately il kline
of gives me the blues. Why you aim
A Going now" as Deacon ApPleyarf
prepared to put on his comforter and
mitfens.
"Dinner II most ready. and ] wa
iust wishing that some one woul'
come In 70 take dinner with me.